


Back in My Path

by voleuse



Category: Justified
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: This is Loretta's town now.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Back in My Path

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-series.

But the times they got hard and tobacco wasn't sellin'  
And old granddad knew what he'd do to survive  
He went and dug for Harlan coal  
And sent the money back to grandma  
But he never left Harlan alive

After Hot Rod went, things out in Memphis were a bit of a mess. Loretta didn't keep track of it all at the time; she was busy moving into the Bennett house and taking business classes online. She'd agreed with Mags about sticking to grass, but expansion, well. There were ways.

'Course, the legalization rumors ended up being just that, so she decided to slow things down a bit. One of her farmers, Jeremiah, asked her if she wanted him to go with her to Memphis to talk with the latest of Hot Rod's heirs. 

Loretta raised an eyebrow at him. "Jeremiah," she said, keeping her voice as even as ever she could, "trust me. He'll come to me."

It was just happenstance that, a few weeks later, Jeremiah was sitting by her when the visit finally came. He was working on the numbers for the wash while she read over reports on yield. When two fellas wearing second-hand boots and brand new holsters sauntered in, Jeremiah stood up and looked at her. 

"Go on," she said, and he only paused for a second before he turned. He glared at the muscle as he exited between them, and made a point of clearing his throat as he went to the front of the shop. 

A man, maybe eight or ten years older than them, strolled in. He looked over his shoulder. "I think that one has a shine for you." He jerked his head and the muscle stepped out, pulling the door shut.

"I have eyes, same as you." Loretta closed the documents on her desktop and folded her hands. "Have a seat," she said. She took in the cut of his suit--almost right but not quite--and the way he was standing--posture straight enough to seem awkward, like he was trying to be the height that he was. "You're from Memphis, I take it?"

"Got it in one." He settled into the chair Jeremiah had left behind. "Name's Elijah. I'm hoping we'll make ourselves, well, let's call it friends."

Loretta leaned back in her chair. "I've got all the friends I need." She tilted her head. "But if you're here for business, you can make me an offer." She turned her palms up. "I'll take it under consideration."

Eli leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Consideration?" His smile shifted to something more predatory; she wondered if he practiced that in the mirror often. "You've got a product. You need a distributor." He paused. "Loretta." He said it like she'd think he was sweet.

She stared at him sour instead. "Elijah." Loretta looked at the broken watch she kept with her always. "You ever hear what happened to Mags Bennett?"

His expression didn't change, but he shifted the slightest bit, and she knew it was done already.

He cleared his throat. "A lot of rumors," he said, sitting back. "Heard talk of drink with a lawman. Heard talk you were there. Heard the rest of her boys went, too." He looked away from her. "I met Mags once, you know."

Loretta nodded. "I ain't never heard of you."

The silence stretched out. She could hear Jeremiah banging things around out front. The old clock on the wall--it was Mags's mother's mother's--ticked, making everything feel slow. There was a shotgun on the shelf behind her.

Elijah's shoulder twitched. "Hot Rod always said Mags Bennett was the closest thing to an empire, 'round here." 

"Maybe," Loretta replied, "but I'm running a business. Now." She snapped her chin up, met his eyes. "Make your offer."

***

Once in a while, Raylan called her, just to say hello. She'd complained about it, maybe the second or third time. "Do you still think I need rescuing? Or did you finally turn snitch?"

There was a sputtering over the line, which Loretta knew meant he'd be scratching the back of his head in a minute.

"No to both," he finally said. 

"Then what?" she asked.

"Maybe." There was a long silence that she did not break. "Maybe you're the last bit of back home I've got."

"Oh." Loretta made herself frown. "Florida's made you soft, Raylan."

He laughed, then carefully didn't ask how business was going.

***

Loretta'd never been one to rise up with the sun, but every once in a while, she woke up by accident and couldn't get back to sleep. She'd pull on a sweater and a ragged pair of sneakers, set the coffeemaker going. Head out onto the porch, listening to the creak of the screen door. The way one board would squeak if she stepped on it right.

She'd walk on to the back of the house--not to the shed, but to Mags's garden, which she could never make herself let go wild. She'd settle onto the ground, never mind the dew, and press her hand into the dirt.

The dirt would be rich, dark and just a little cold as she rubbed it against her fingers. She'd lean back and listen to that old rooster over at the Calders' across the way. She'd breathe deep.

She'd think of her daddy.

**Author's Note:**

> Title adapted from "[What I Believe](http://www.jeff-worley.com/jeff/samples/sample-a-little-luck/)" by Jeff Worley. Epigraph taken from "[You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cco-pCb0klU)," performed by Darrell Scott.


End file.
